From hipsters sporting flannel, devil-spawn Furbies making a comeback and Tupac rising from the dead in hologram form, I dare say we’ve time traveled back into the ’90s. Actually, it might be better to say to we never really left that wacky era.
Remnants of the time linger ubiquitously in modern culture. “Friends” reruns have taken over TBS and Nick at Nite and bars are giving out promotional slap bracelets — yes, you read that right, slap bracelets.
With the recent announcement of a Destiny’s Child reunion and Justin Timberlake dropping singles for the first time in years, it’s beginning to look a lot like 1998.
Why the sudden resurgence of the same ridiculousness we’ve already endured? Because we eat that shit up like it’s Trix Yogurt in our Power Rangers lunch boxes.
We yearn for the days when we had few cares in the world, and hearing those familiar noises instantly transports us back to those “simpler times.”
We have become our parents. We’re the crotchety old man who incessantly reminisces about “the good old days.” We’re just more subtle about it, and our mouths don’t do the talking — our wallets do.
We reject Justin Bieber, Miley Cyrus and One Direction despite the fact that they’re just regurgitations of our childhood heartthrobs. They’re no better or worse than Aaron Carter, Britney Spears or the Backstreet Boys. We’re just old enough to see through the vapid bullshit now.
Well, except when the music industry repackages nostalgic artists. They’re regifting music and barely changing the wrapping paper. They’re reheating leftovers and acting like they’ve been slaving in the kitchen for days. And it works.
“If it’s not broke, don’t fix it” seems to be a mantra of record companies. It’s not hard to understand. Why bother gambling on a new, experimental artist when you can make a handsome profit selling the same product endlessly? Ain’t nobody got time for new artists.
The truth is we’re so goddamned terrified to let go, move on and relinquish our childhood memories to adulthood that we continue to dress the same, watch the same things and listen to the same music we did as tweens — albeit, it may be a reworking of the original. But let’s not kid ourselves, it’s a copy of a copy.
There isn’t anything wrong with some ’90s loving. Hell, I still adore Blink-182. However, we need to be aware we’re inadvertently crushing new music because we can’t let the old stuff bow out gracefully.
To quote ’90s poster child Kurt Cobain, “It’s better to burn out than to fade away.”
